Flooed
by FearfulCaptainBiffElderberry
Summary: An accident with some floo powder sends Harry back to 1942.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own.

**Warnings: Graphic smut. Yaoi. **Possibly cursing? Minor OOCness. **You have been warned. Read at your own discretion. **

**Author's Note: **So once upon a time (like half a year ago) Reeby10 and I were both bored, and had horrible writer's block. So I suggested we each write each other a random prompt, something the other would enjoy, and exchange, thereby taking care of the writer's block and the boredom. She requested Tom/Harry Time Travel, and in exchange I got Hanna/{...} Mpreg (Hanna and {...} are from Hanna is Not a Boy's Name). So what started out as a 20 minute writing oneshot has now turned into a 7(ish) chapter fic, with the deal that for every chapter I write, Reeby write's one of my requests. (I believe the next one is Twins/Oliver mpreg? Or (since it's taking so long) Anyone mpreg.) So anyways, enough of my blathering. On with the fic!

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Harry sat up, groaning. _Ugh where am I?_ He thought, trying to open his eyes. Nope. Hurt too much. He conceded to just lie back against the cold stone and try to remember what happened... Slowly. Very slowly.

He had been... in Umbridge's office... trying to contact the order. His head began to ache with the memory. Someone... probably the toad herself... had walked in... scared him. He gasped suddenly, sitting up. He had fallen into the fire place! His eyes flashed open. He had flooed somewhere! He looked around desperately.

Only to realize he was still in Hogwarts. In fact, it looked like he was still in Umbridge's office, only it wasn't pink, and there were no kitties.

"What the..."

"Who are you!" Someone yelled behind him. Harry turned around quickly, groaning as he was painfully reminded of the throbbing in his head.

"Aww, crap," Harry moaned, slowly staggering to his feet. Before him stood the 16 year old self of his arch nemesis. "Suppose you want to kill me then?" He asked, slowly pulling out his own wand. His head gave a particularly painful throb, causing him to stumble.

"Not that the thought didn't cross my mind," Tom stated, crossing his arms over his chest, "But why would I want to?"

Harry moaned again, staggering slightly. His eyes fell closed. Why was it so damn bright in the dull room? "What year is it?" He asked.

"1942." Tom stated. "Are you alright?"

"No," Harry moaned, falling to his knees. So here he was, concussioned, in the wrong decade, with his younger worst enemy. And here he had always thought his life couldn't get any worse after he had magic.

"Here," Tom came to kneel beside him. "Let me help you." He mumbled a spell under his breath, holding his wand to Harry's bleeding temple.

Harry sighed as he felt the pressure decrease in his head. "Thanks," he mumbled, his eyes falling closed. He was so tired. He yawned slightly, falling forwards.

Next thing Tom Riddle knew he had this mysterious Gryffindor sprawled across the floor out cold. Now the responsible thing to do would be to take him to the Hospital Wing. However, there was just something so familiar about this boy. Something he recognized in him. So of course, he did what any self serving teen would do. He picked the boy up and carried him to a room no one would find him in.

When Harry came to, he was in a large chamber, in a large bed. Now he honestly had no idea where he was. He opened his eyes. The room was well lit, a cheery fire burning in the hearth, and warm. By the hearth were several arm chairs. Tom sat in one of these, reading from a rather thick volume.

"Where am I?" Harry asked him, trying to sit up.

"The room of requirements," Tom told him. He looked over at Harry and smiled, glad to see his patient awake.

"Why?"

"There's something odd about you," Tom told him, ignoring his question. He set his book to the side, and stood. "I know you from somewhere don't I?" He slowly approached the bed.

"No." Harry said quickly.

"Yes I do," Tom insisted. "I've seen you somewhere. But I can't remember where. It's almost as if it was a dream."

"Sure!" Harry agreed, rather quickly, "Must have been a dream. Honestly though, I've never seen you before."

"A dream, hmmm," Tom muttered. "Then this most be a dream too."

"Su-" Harry was silenced as a pair of lips crashed over his.

"What was that!" he squawked, pulling back.

"It's my dream, I can do what I want to," Tom smirked, and right now, what he wanted was Harry.

"Wait!" Harry yelled, scrambling backwards. "We should talk about this!"

"Why?" Tom stalked onto the bed. "This is just a dream. My dream." Harry was now at the edge of the bed, endanger of falling off. "I can do whatever I want to you," He grabbed Harry's tie and pulled him close. "Because you aren't really here." He forced his lops over Harry's, ignoring the other teen's muffled protest. His hand wrapped around Harry's tile, until his hand grasped the knot.

Harry felt himself being pulled forward. A warm tongue forced its way into his mouth.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Harry asked, once Tom finally pulled back.

"No," Tom hissed, his eyes flashing. He leaned back down for another kiss. He grasped Harry's wrists, dragging them up above his head.

Harry moaned as he felt Tom grind his own growing erection into Harry's hips. Despite the loss of free will, Harry found himself turned on by the man above him. There was just something about the confidence, the utter control Tom exuded, that Harry found so attractive. He squirmed against the man, searching for friction as Tom kissed his way down his jaw and throat.

Tom shifted Harry's wrists into one hand. His now free hand traveled down to Harry's tie. He fumbled with the knot, pulling the tie from Harry's neck.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, squirming slightly, as Tom slipped the tie around Harry's wrists, tying him to the headboard.

"I need both my hands," Tom explained. Once he was sure Harry's wrists were well bound Tom settled back between Harry's legs.

Tom captured Harry's lips in another passionate kiss. His hands ghosted down Harry's sides, feeling quitch honed muscles twitch. One hand continued on down, gently massaging Harry's growing erection through the fabric of his pants.

"Good to know you're enjoying this too," Tom muttered. Harry whined as Tom removed his hand. "Hold on a second," Tom hushed him, kissing the tip of Harry's chin. He quickly began fumbling with Harry's shirt buttons, anxious to explore the golden flesh below. Once Harry's whole chest was revealed to him, Tom began to rub Harry's erection again.

"So pretty," he muttered watching Harry squirm beneath him. He swooped down, taking one dusty nipple into his mouth and sucking hard.

"Ahh!" Harry moaned, arching up. His heels dug into the mattress searching for a hold.

"So anxious," Tom mused, pulling back. He smirked as Harry whined at the lose of contact. He loosened his own tie, followed by his pants. He shuddered as he finally released his trapped erection.

Harry's eyes grew wide as he looked at Tom's cock. Sure he wasn't a blushing virgin and sure it wasn't the biggest cock he'd ever seen. But his last (and first) few times he had always been more than a little drunk, and couldn't really remember what exactly had happened the next morning.

"Impressed?" Tom asked, catching Harry staring.

"Uhhh... ye... no... uh."

Tom chuckled. "Relax. This your first time?" He slowly started undoing Harry's pants.

"No!" Harry shouted incredulously. Tom smirked," I mean, I've done it a few times before." Tom was slowly pulling Harry's pants off.

"What were they like?"

"Well there was one time with my best friend's brothers," Harry explained. "They're twins."

"Were they your first?" Tom asked. He had divested Harry of his pants now and Harry hadn't even seemed to notice.

"No," Harry blushed. "My first time was... uh... my rival," Harry confessed. "We were both really drunk." Tom was now fingering the waistband of Harry's boxers. "Actually I was drunk both times." Harry admitted, hiding his face in his arms.

"So cute," Tom laughed, "So is this your first time sober?" He leaned down and kissed the tip of Harry's cock through his boxers. Harry nodded mutely. Tom smirked slowly pulling down Harry's boxers. His eyes ran over the body exposed beneath him. Everything from the odd little scar on his forehead to the straining cock, to the tip of Harry's toe, was oddly attractive to the teen.

Harry blushed under the scrutinization, subconsciously trying to close his legs.

"No, no, no," Tom chided, forcing Harry's legs back apart. "I'm not done with you yet. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of lotion.

"Planning this all along?" Harry asked, eyeing the lotion in Tom's hand.

"The thought crossed my mind, yes," Tom smirked. He slicked up his fingers with the lotion.

Harry was about to retort, but quickly shut up as he felt the first finger enter. He grimaced as he tried to force himself to relax and open up. _This sure was a lot easier drunk_, he thought.

"You okay?" Tom asked. Harry nodded, still grimacing slightly. "I'm gonna stock another one in then." He slowly eased another finger in. He began searching for the magic little organ that would make the boy scream.

Tom could feel Harry slowly warm up to his fingers. He could feel the boy pushing down against him, clenching his muscles.

"You're ready," Tom stated, pulling his fingers out. He quickly slicked up his own cock. He lined up. "Hold on," he ordered. He surged forward.

"Ahh...hh...h..." Harry half-whimpered, half moaned. His feet scrambled for a footing as he tried to lift his hips away from the surging force.

"No, no, no," Tom grabbed Harry's hips and pushed them back down, shuddering the tight heat around him.

Harry's head thrashed back and forth. It hurt. He hadn't been stretched enough. Hot tears began to run down his cheeks.

Tom looked at the boy struggling beneath him. He took pity on Harry and stopped pushing.

"It's alright," he soothed, brushing Harry's tears away.

Harry took a shuddering breath. He could feel himself slowly adjusting to the thickness inside him.

"Just relax," Tom soothed. His hand traveled from Harry's face, down his chest and to his waning cock. "Tell me when your ready," Tom said, hand running up and down Harry's cock lightly.

Harry took one last deep breath. "Ready," he told Tom.

Tom slowly began to push forward again, this time being careful to monitor Harry. He didn't plan on stopping again, and a crying partner was quite a cockblock. The boy took it quite well. No more crying. In fact, as Tom pistoned his hips in and out he could almost see pleasure crossing the other boy's face. Now if only he could find Harry's prostate and make him see stars.

"AHHH!" Harry screamed.

_Found it_, Tom smirked, angling his thrust to hit his target with every thrust.

Harry's back arched as pleasure racked his body. Between Tom's hand now rubbing up and down his cock, and the continual assault to his prostate, Harry could feel himself getting close.

"Come," Tom hissed, leaning down and kissing Harry hard.

"Tom!" Harry screamed into the kiss, as he came. His toes curled, and his back arched, pushing his chest against Tom.

A few second more of the delightfully tight clenching passage was all Tom could take. He came with a quiet hiss, a look of pleasure barely passing his face.

"That... was..." Harry panted as Tom pulled out and rolled over.

"Good?" Tom supplied, reaching up to untie Harry's wrists.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He slowly began to rub his wrist, trying to regain feeling in his fingers he never realized he lost.

Tom began to unbutton his shirt.

"What are you doing!" Harry asked alarmed.

"Getting ready for bed," Tom informed him. "I can't slip back into the slytherin dorm this late, Slughorn would have my hide. Aside from that you, have no where else to go." he kissed Harry on the forehead.

Once fully undressed Tom slipped under the covers, pulling Harry with him. They fell asleep wordlessly, tangled in each other limbs.

Several hours later, Harry woke up. He quietly got dressed, and looked around the room, searching for a quill and parchment. Once the room had supplied it Harry began a letter.

_Dear Tom,_

_I'm sorry. I can't stay here. I've gone back to my own time, 1995. We can't be together. You'll find out why in the future. After all we do already know each other. I just wanted to say that, last night was wonderful, and I regret that we can never do it again._

_With love,_

_The boy who lived._

Harry left the note on his pillow before silently slipping out of the room and out of Tom Riddle's life.

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**Author's Note: ** Enjoy? I certainly hope so. I actually have the next chapter mostly written, I'm just waiting for reeby to start my next prompt. We'll see when that happens...

**Cookie thing:** With every fic I've written for well over a year I have offered cookies for characters with reviews. Basically when you review you put who you want to give a cookie to in it. So for example:

"(some sort of review stuff)... And I want to give my cookie to (Character) for (just about any reason. Hell, you don't even have to have a reason...)" (Really creative right?)

There are some rules:  
1. One cookie per review.  
2. Cookies can be split between however many characters you want. (I've had 1/16s of a cookie before)  
3. Cookies must be given to people. Not inanimate objects. (This rule was inspired by reeby10, who in the past has given cookies to tables, sandwiches and even a coffin.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **It's been a good half day since I last posted a chapter, and I still don't own... damn.

**Warnings: **Let's see, there's some **smut**. There's some cursing. Minor OCCness. Unbetaed (I did reread it myself though.) **You have been warned. Read at you're own discretion.**

**Author's Note: **I'll just leave this here then. Let's see, it's currently almost midnight, dec 8. I'm so fucking tired. (Dead week in college = 4 projects plus exams. Plus I have an entrance portfolio due in about 2 months. I miss sleep!) I know I said that it'd probably be a while before the next chapter, but I lied. Reeby10's bday is Dec 8, and this is her present. Why? because we're actually currently in different cities, I haven't finished her present present, and I already had this written. (I mentioned it's dead week right? My printer's about to commit suicide for the work it's done) I am quite literally about to fall asleep on my key so I'm gonna stop rambling now...

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It took Harry a good half a day to find his way to an available floo connected fire place. By the time he made it back to his own era, Harry was covered in soot, dead tired, and extremely sore. He had been throughly questioned by Umbridge, Dumbledore, and Ron and Hermione, and now all he wanted to do was to collapse into bed after a hot shower.

Harry flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes. What a day... er several decades, or whatever he had just gone through. Slowly his muscles began to relax, one by one, until he was almost asleep. Now if only that damn tapping would go away. Tapping? Where was that coming from?

Harry slowly opened his eyes, and looked around. Sure enough an owl was perched on the window ledge, tapping it's beak on the glass. Harry groaned, but got up anyway. He let the bird in and pulled the letter off it's foot.

_Dear Harry,_

_If my sources are correct you have just returned from our first meeting. Harry, I want you to know that I never forgot our first encounter. It is a memory that has haunted me for years. And I am thankful daily for it's existence._

_Now, you are probably wondering, how that can be if things haven't changed. While I grew to the man I am today, I was constantly looking for you – a boy with black hair, a lightning scar, and vivid, gorgeous green eyes. However, when I killed your parents I was not aware that you were, well, you. And when I saw you that first year, with Quarell, I refused to believe that it was actually you. That the one I had caused so much pain to, was the same boy from my memories. However, by the time I was resurrected I knew the truth. But I was angry. Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? You could have gotten rid of me back then, and saved yourself all this pain? _

_To conclude, I want to see you again. According to my sources, this next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend. If I remember correctly, it was also one in 1942. My younger self will be waiting by the fire in the Defense against the Dark Arts office for you almost all day, hoping that you show up. Please indulge me. _

_Sincerely_

_Tom Riddle_

Harry crumpled up the letter and threw it under his bed. Why hadn't he killed Voldemort when he had the chance? He could have saved so much pain, so many trials, if he had only acted. He could have had a normal happy childhood, and no one would have known the difference.

He shook his head. All these thoughts swarming through his head were giving Harry a headache. He'd think more about it tomorrow, but for now the pillows were calling his name, and he planned to answer that call immediately...

It took almost all week for Harry to decide whether to go back to Tom or not. On one hand, the thought of sleeping with his enemy, which he knew he would should he go back, was wrong and utterly disgusting, but on the other hand it was slightly exciting. There was just something about Tom, that Harry liked, the shear confidence the other teen processed, the way he dominated Harry so soundly. But at the same time, Harry was the saviour of the free world, and more importantly he knew he wore his heart on his sleeves. If he went back, he would run the risk of falling in love. He couldn't risk that sort of emotional attachment to the man he would eventually have to kill.

In the end Harry finally decided to go. That Saturday morning he got dressed before the others in the dorm woke up. He slipped the invisibility cloak in his bag, and left a note for Ron saying he was going to spend the day studying, that Ron and Hermione should go to Hogsmeade without him. He then slipped quietly out the dorm and down to Umbridge's office. He slipped on the invisibility cloak. All that was left now was to wait for a chance to slip in and floo to Tom. He would wait all day if he had to. After all this whole week he had been plagued by thoughts and dreams of Tom, and nothing would keep him from seeing the other teen (and hopefully getting fucked senseless).

Luckily his opportunity came quickly, as Umbridge left to go to breakfast. As he watched her wobble down the hall, he cautiously approached the door. He should at least have a good 10 minutes before the frog returned, even if she just had a cup of tea for breakfast. But just in case, he hurried.

He grabbed a handful of floo powder from the jar, not bothering to take the invisibility cloak off. He stepped into the fire and stated, "1942." All too quickly he was falling out of the fireplace in another era. He threw out his hands to catch himself.

"Holy -" Tom cursed as something solid and invisible collided with him. They both tumbled to the ground, and in the ensuing squabble, Harry lost his cloak, and ended up under Tom.

"Hello there," Tom said breathily. He leaned down and planted a kiss on Harry's nose. "Nice to see you again."

"Hi," Harry smiled up at Tom.

"Come on," Tom said, climbing off of Harry, "Let's go before the professor gets back." Harry quickly clambered to his feet, grabbing the invisibility cloak before Tom could see it and stuffing it in his bag.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, hurrying after Tom.

"Hogsmeade," Tom told him, stopping for Harry to catch up. "Wait, you have something on your nose." Tom took a step towards Harry, successfully trapping him between himself and the wall. He leaned in and kissed Harry quite thoughily. His hands wandered mercilessly, over Harry's clothes, under his shirt, teasingly along his pant line.

Harry melted into the kiss. All doubts fled from his mind, chased out by the warm tongue that found it's way into his mouth. His hands came up to play in Tom's hair, pulling the other boy closer. His hips thrust forwards, seeking friction, seeking heat, seeking Tom.

"We might not make it to Hogsmeade," Tom muttered into Harry's ear. His hands began to hastily undo Harry's pants.

"Can we... ngg... at least find some place a little … uh... private?" Harry asked. Tom's hand had wormed it's way into his pants, and was now forcefully palming his erection.

"Here," Tom grabbed Harry's wrist, and pulled him into a nearby classroom. Harry had only a few seconds to take in his surroundings, before he was pushed up against the door. From what he could see they were in the transfiguration classroom – Dumbledore's classroom.

"Want you," Tom muttered between kisses. He loosened Harry's tie and pulled it over the other teen's head. His free hand captured both of Harry's wrists behind his back, holding them there.

"Have me," Harry replied, one leg slowly sliding up the back of Tom's legs. He pushed his hips forwards searching for friction. His hands migrated to Tom's own pants, fumbling with the button.

"Mm, no," Tom told him, his hands grabbing Harry's wrists and pulling them behind Harry's back, "I'm in charge." He put both wrist in one hand and bent to pick up Harry's discarded tie. He slipped it over Harry's wrists and pulled it tight. "Much better." he said, kissing Harry's nose.

If anything Harry got harder at the sudden loss of control. There was just something about the illusion of being helpless, in the hands of his enemy turned lover, that Harry just loved.

"Now, onto the main event," Tom said, pushing Harry's trousers the rest of the way down. He dug in his own pockets, and pulled out the same small bottle of lotion they used the last time.

"Nice to know you come prepared," Harry muttered, watching Tom slick up his fingers. He hitched his leg up higher, trying to make more room for Tom. He hissed lightly as the first finger entered. But quickly warmed up to it.

"You seem looser than last time," Tom stated.

"I... uh... practiced," Harry blushed. Practiced, wanked, really it was all the same thing, Harry reasoned.

"Alone?" Tom growled possessively. His finger stilled.

"Nnn, of course," Harry whimpered, grinding down on the finger, looking for more friction.

"Hmm, good," Tom smirked. The second finger quickly joined the first one, stretching and twisting. Tom's lips trailed up Harry's neck as a third finger joined the other two.

"Good," Tom stated, pulling his fingers out when he deemed Harry was ready. He quickly undid his own pants and released his cock.

"Ready?" He asked after slicking his cock with the lotion, and lining up. He surged forwards before Harry could reply, pushing all the way to the hilt.

"OH MY MMM!" Tom quickly shut Harry's shout of surprise with his own mouth. He kissed his way up Harry's jaw.

"Remember, where we are," Tom hissed in Harry's ear. "Don't want to tip anyone off to our presence. Especially not in our current," Tom gave a short little thrust with his hips, "state."

Harry shuttered at the idea. He found it extremely embarrassing, but still somewhat exciting.

Tom found Harry's prostate almost as soon as he started thrusting. Every single thrust from then on was aimed towards that magic little organ. It was almost like his goal was to make Harry pass out from the pleasure, which it might have been come to think of it.

He hitched Harry up higher, surging deeper, harder, faster. One hand drifted down to Harry's weeping member. He took it in hand, and began to jerk him off.

All too soon it was over. Harry fell over the edge as pleasure assaulted his nerves. Tom was quick to follow. Unfortunately by this time it was just him and the wall supporting the two of them. His legs buckled and they toppled to the ground. They landed in a sweaty pile, Harry just barely managed to miss hitting his head on the stone floor.

"You okay?" Tom asked, as he recovered from the orgasm.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, "Thanks." He leaned forward and gave Tom a chaste kiss. Tom smiled at him.

"Come on," Tom said, getting to his feet. "We still have time to make it to Hogsmeade." He began putting his outfit back together.

"Umm, a little help?" Harry asked from the floor, nodding to his still tied hands.

Tom smirked, "Do it yourself." He laughed at the look Harry gave him. "Fine," he knelt down and loosened the tie. "Better?"

"Much." Harry quickly stood up and began rearranging his clothes. He had just gotten his pants rebuttoned when the classroom door slammed open. Harry flinched, expecting to see Dumbledore, who would quite easily recognize him in the future, and ruin his little charade. However, instead of seeing his doom, Harry saw a slitherin boy approximately Tom's age with dark hair.

"Avery," Tom stated coldly. Harry shuddered. Tom already sounded so much like Voldemort when he adopted that voice. It made Harry's skin crawl.

"My lord," Avery ducked his head in a quick bow.

"What is it?"

"W...we were just wondering if you we...were going to Hogsmeade," Avery explained. "W...we were w...waiting for you."

"My companion and I will be leaving shortly," Tom informed him.

Avery looked questioningly at Harry. "But my lord, he's a Gryffindor..."

"Silence!" Tom roared, "It is my choice who I spend my time with!"

"Yes, my lord," Avery ducked his head one last time and disappeared.

**

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****Author's Note: **Like? There was actually supposed to be a different ending with plot (omg! Plot! I didn't know this had that!) but I finished my second project for the day and am really making no sense. So I figured trying to coherently figure out the plot, and write it would not be a good idea. It'll probably be finished sometime in the next few days, and I'll post it then.

Anyways, like I said this was a birthday gift for Reeby10! Now go shower her with love, and birthday wishes, or just pretend that this isn't here and move onto the next fic/homework/random whatever.

**Cookie thing:** With every fic I've written for well over a year I have offered cookies for characters with reviews. Basically when you review you put who you want to give a cookie to in it. So for example:

"(some sort of review stuff)... And I want to give my cookie to (Character) for (just about any reason. Hell, you don't even have to have a reason...)" (Really creative right?)

There are some rules:  
1. One cookie per review.  
2. Cookies can be split between however many characters you want. (I've had 1/16s of a cookie before)  
3. Cookies must be given to people. Not inanimate objects. (This rule was inspired by reeby10, who in the past has given cookies to tables, sandwiches and even a coffin.)


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